dimanche 29 décembre 2013

Some
remote place in rural Texas, where the only things that can earn respect from both
people and animals are the hand that tames them and the willpower that breaks
them. T.C. Jeffords (Walter Huston) is very much the local deity, a Zeus by
turns irascible or patronizing, but whose craving for more lands to rule over
leads to near-bankruptcy. It is obvious that his son is unable to fill his (rather
large) boots but fortunately for the family estate of "The furies",
his daughter Vance (Barbara Stanwyck) is more than up to the job. Indeed, Vance
is both "The furies" ' shadow manager and her late, delicate mother's
body double in T.C.'s worshipping heart, if not elsewhere - and by that I really
mean that their relationship screams of latent incest. Like father like
daughter - so much so that both of them would rather crush their opponent and
risk self-destruction in the process, than surrender. This quite primitive line
of thinking is pushed to its most absurd when they come to fight each other
over their respective love interests.

How
could Vengeance and Destruction not be part of life at "The furies",
if only because of the ranch's name? Little by little, more or less directly,
each of the persons who could have brought T.C. and Vance back to their senses
will end up being destroyed as a result of their dispute. Flo (Judith
Anderson), the distinguished lady who was engaged to T.C., is disfigured by
Vance, who sees no other way to prevent her soon-to-be mother-in-law from
taking control of "The furies". It is also likely that the young
woman could not stand the idea of T.C. having fallen for someone so civilized
and educated, and therefore so unlike the rough and tough Vance herself. A
childhood friend (and not-so-secret admirer) of Vance and the leader of a clan
of Mexican squatters refusing to leave the land of their ancestors, the gentle
Juan Herrera (Gilbert Roland) will be hanged on T.C.'s order under a false
pretense. This execution is as much a form of retaliation for the attack
against Flo as it is a convenient way to eliminate Vance's only genuine
support.

Unsurprisingly,
Vance is attracted to Rip Darrow (Wendell Corey, who clearly does not play in
the same league as his two acting monsters co-stars), who grew up in a context
of unrelenting hatred for T.C. as the man who triggered his father's decline. It
makes sense that the man that Vance chooses to love is the only one who is
compelled to oppose T.C.'s domination over the region - and as such, she is
confident that he is also the one man T.C. could never approve of as his
daughter's husband.

Both
Jeffords father and daughter are above the idea of compassion, and negociating
never was, and never is, an option for them. All they ever do is wipe their
enemies out - and why should they do otherwise when their sheer brutality gets
them what they want? Their relationship is reminiscent of that among great
predators: the challenging of the old by the young to take over the pack is a
rite of passage, an integral part of the life cycle. Just like wolves, T.C. and
Vance can't help getting at each other's throat - but even so their innate
violence is what make them so much alike, and so far apart from the rest.
Ultimately, they will always get back together to lick each other's wounds.

The furies looks very much like a transposition of Wuthering Heights in Texas: all the
locations have this distinctive gothic flavor enhanced by a strongly contrasted
photography and ominous landscapes and the relationships between the
characters are as loud as un thunderstorm over Emily Brontë's moors. The
casting of Judith Anderson, who played the part of Mrs Danvers in Rebecca (a movie that was itself
adapted from a book capitalizing on gothic imagery), only adds to this eerie atmosphere.

mardi 24 décembre 2013

This famous line (uttered by Danny Glover's
character in Lethal weapon and its
sequels) could be made his by the James Bond pictured here (and for the third
time) by Daniel Craig. But it could just as well belong to M (Judi Dench).

Both are being harshly criticized after a
hitman stole a list of MI6 agents working undercover in terrorist
organizations. A list which should never have existed, let alone have been stored
in a computer (imagine yourself keeping a file entitled "password"...)
and which theft through an elaborate hacking has only highlighted how obsolete
and out of touch with reality British Intelligence Services are.

This first, very public crisis is mirrored by a second,
private one. While Bond was trying to stop the thief from escaping, M had to make
a decision that could have resulted in Bond being killed. Bond, although
substantially diminished, not only survived the incident but eventually learned
about M's choice. As much as the seasoned professional in him understands the
rationale behind it, his relationship with his supervisor has evolved over time
and is now more similar to that of a rebellious child with his stern foster
mother - which leaves him both infuriated and deeply wounded by what he sees as
a betrayal.

M's abilities being questioned in high
places, both her reputation and her position are at stake when she is targeted
by a terrorist attack so vicious that the involvement of someone close to her,
either in the present or from her past, makes no doubt. Even though Bond has
been deemed unfit for service, she has no other option than to call him back to
find who is after her...

The release of this Bond film, coinciding
with the 50th birthday of the most durable franchise in movie history,
had been expected to be magnificent and memorable. When I learned that Sam
Mendes had been selected to be the director, I was slightly concerned. While
Mendes is without question a clever director with a strong sense of style (American beauty and Revolutionary Road provide sufficient
evidence of this), I was unsure he would come through at the helm of an action
movie. I'm happy to eat humble pie now since I think that with
Skyfall he's
done better than merely rising to the challenge.

Indeed, far from trying to hide the deliciously
old-fashioned and almost standardized aspects of the James Bond franchise (temptresses,
gadgets, plots reeking of Cold War-era spy novels with a waft of plaster,
vodka-martini cocktails shaken not stirred, Aston Martin, and above all fighting
for the greatness of England without losing one's temper), Mendes grab them
vigorously by the neck and put them at the heart of the story. Bond is in pain
inside and out, defeated in advance and sent to gather dust on some museum's
shelf by the combination of better physical condition and technological skills
of his opponents. Affected by the evidence of his own dilapidation, he gets to
face his limitations as we all have to at some point in
our lives, and envisions what will remain after him. These questions are on
M's mind too and are made all the more pregnant by her age, her more exposed
position... as well as the fact that her own past shortcomings have generated
the enemy who is threatening her today.

The whole movie revolves around images of failure,
ruin and decay and makes an extensive use of fall from grace vs. redemption and extinction vs. regeneration metaphors, while
brilliantly exploiting settings made of shimmering surfaces and
saltpeter-covered underground tunnels. The editing, smooth and ample, allows
the viewer to read the action and feel the mood of each scene and character
(looking at you, Quantum of solace).
Landscapes are given enough space to stretch in, gazes enough time to float
through, leaving the eerie impression that everything is vacant and out of
sync. Bond appears to be wandering in limbos like a lost soul, from a ghost
island to the mists of Scotland, Daniel Craig's mineral, crumbling features
reflecting a state that cannot be called "life" anymore - but which
is not yet death. Unable to give up without negating everything he has been and
fought for, Bond is compelled to get back to his roots in order to return,
although at great cost for him.

What about the enemy? It is said that a James
Bond movie is only as successful as his villain. Javier Bardem is known as an
actor who can play anything - if he ever were up to play Lady Gaga (for
instance), I have no doubt he would be absolutely amazing - and his ability for
portraying larger-than-life psychos has been made obvious since his performance
in No country for old men. Needless
to say, I was drooling when I heard he had been cast as Bond's Nemesis in Skyfall and now that I've watched the
film I must bow to his talent. As Riva, the unlikely and bleached offspring of Silence of the lambs' Jame Gumb (with
whom he shares a poisonous affectation) and the semi-human creature of Alien: Resurrection (for the, shall we
say, peculiar mother-son relationship), he is terrifying. As simple as that. He
is both Bond's evil twin, since each of them could have played the part of the
other, had the circumstances been slightly different, and M's monster child,
who spreads destruction for the thrill of it. In his ultimate face-off with
Bond, Riva's dark figure delineated against a flaming background conjures up
the kind of primal fear that grips one's heart upon facing a beast on the
prowl.

At the end of the day, Skyfall is a James Bond movie which does not look the part and it
might be just as well. What I mean is this: it's an excellent movie in its own
rights, with or without the "Bondian" frills. In tune with its own
subject, it also reminds us that, blunt and rusty as they may look, old weapons
can still reach their target.